Watch What You Say
by xXxdanknoscoperxXx
Summary: An old story I wrote (from about 4-5 years ago) that I recently found while sifting through my old harddrive. As with all things I write, it makes me cringe to remember it, but I figured someone might enjoy it. Contains non-con.


"It's so nice of you to let us stay here~" Finland said in his usual sing-song voice, the bright notes his sunny, airy voice hit fluttering through the room like beautiful little butterflies, just waiting to be able to reach someone's ears in order to be acknowledged.

Someone answered him in return, but the voice was not nearly as pleasant, and it had none of the sing-song that Finland's voice had. It was rough, loud, and more like a long grunt than anything else. "Yeah, no problem, Tino. Y'know I'm here if ya' need anything." A somewhat joyful tone seemed to sound against the walls. However, it did have a sort of underlying tone to it; one of slight annoyance. But he managed to mask it. Well enough for Finland, at least, and that was all that mattered.

"Su-san's been worrying me a lot lately…" Finland sat on the nearby couch, playing idly with the long sleeves of his sweater, his thoughts a bit more preoccupied than they should have been.

"Mmm…" was the only response that Denmark gave, trying to zone out of the conversation as soon as "Su-san" was mentioned. _Oh God,_ his mind echoed. _Why the fuck does that girly little faggy freak have to mention him every fucking minute of every fucking day?_ Denmark leaned against the wall on his arm, looking away, down at the floor so he could better separate himself from the conversation.

"He's been staying at work for later and later each day…" continued Finland, unaware of what was even going through Denmark's mind at the moment. "And today he says he's not even going to get back until tomorrow because he has so much work to finish and people to talk to…" He tugged a little harder at his sweater sleeves, his voice growing a little bit more worried than before.

The other nation, Denmark, could not help but listen to those words which etched themselves into his mind, refusing to simply fade away, instead burrowing themselves deeper and deeper and deeper. He didn't answer at all this time, instead hoping, just hoping that Finland would just shut his mouth already, before Denmark somehow managed to bubble over and explode in anger. He gripped one of his arms with the other, digging his short nails into thick, pale skin and gritting his teeth all the while.

But Finland just went right on talking, too caught up in what he was saying to notice the growing tension in the room. "I mean, he knows that I can take care of myself, but he's never around anymore, not even on the weekends. I understand that he has a busy job, but… He even told me to take little Peter and bring him with me here… It… He's been acting so weird lately though…" Finland tugged hard on his sleeves, almost ripping them.

Denmark could hardly contain his own anger for much longer. _Where the Hell does this fag get off talking about that stupid asshole?_ His thoughts yelled, desperate for escape… Desperate to become more than just ideas or words, and to turn into action. But no, he had to hold it in. He had to keep himself calm. Just for now. He could let it all out tomorrow, after Finland left, or maybe tonight, if he was lucky and had a good dream about it.

Much to his displeasure, Finland kept right on pushing it, still yet unaware of the ever-growing tense atmosphere.

"I… I love Su-san. I really do. He's the best thing that's ever happened to me. He and Peter, I mean…. But sometimes, I wonder whether he's making the right choices or not…" He brought the sleeves up to his own face and brushed the rough cloth over fair cheeks. "Even if things don't really work out for the best… I just want Peter to have a nice, proper family. He wouldn't want his daddy or his mommy to just disappear, I think. He needs both. And I don't think there's a better father out there than Su-san, to be honest."

If he were any angrier, there might've been steam coming out of his ears. If he heard another word about stupid fag "Su-san", he was going to snap someone's neck or something of the sort. Finally lifting himself so that he was no longer leaning, Denmark started toward Finland's direction, intent on telling him to shut up in a way that he'd know to never speak out about fucking "Su-san" ever again.

"Oh!" Finland exclaimed suddenly, "I forgot to kiss Peter good night!" He stood up quickly. "Without Su-san around, he's starting to feel really lonely. But with the little kisses he gets when he goes to bed, it makes him feel a little bit better…" Finland turned around to walk up the stairs so he could kiss his son good night, but did not expect Denmark to be standing right in his path.

Finland jumped back when he saw the man standing right in front of him, clearly startled. "O-Oh, Tanska," he said, a bit shakily. "You scared me there." Finland chuckled nervously, putting one of his sleeved hands up to his mouth. He didn't notice the all-too-serious look which was now in Denmark's eyes that threatened to bore holes right through Finland.

As the smaller nation attempted to make his way around the larger, trying to slip through to the stairs by going around Denmark, he soon found that the other would not allow it. He stuck his arm out, preventing Finland from getting across, even if it was just to kiss his own son on the cheek and let him know that everything was going to be alright; that papa would still stay with them, no matter what.

"Tanska…? What is this? You're acting very strangely…" Finland cooed, some concern present in his voice as he looked up and saw the other, glaring right back at him, those blue eyes of his which were once so joyous and happy now unnaturally dark. "T-Tan… Ska?" Finland stuttered out nervously when he saw that the one whom he was addressing was showing no sign of easing his harsh glare.

Suddenly, while Finland was still staring at him like a deer caught in headlights, Denmark reached out quickly, and grabbed the nation's thin, delicate arm with a strong, firm hand, making sure that he could not escape, not even if he wanted to. Denmark was going to make sure that that fag would know to never talk about that stupid fucking asshole while in his presence.

Upon being grabbed, the smaller nation squirmed around uncomfortable, more and more worry beginning to build up inside of him. _Tanska would never do anything bad,_ his mind continued to reassure him. _He's probably just a little bit angry right now…_ Although why he was, Finland didn't have the slightest idea. He just hoped that Denmark would somehow manage to calm himself down soon.

But Finland knew that he needn't worry about getting hurt. Denmark was usually so kind. He wouldn't hurt anyone unless he really, truly hated him. He didn't hate Finland, now… D-… Did he…? The smaller nation looked back up at the other pleadingly. "I just…" he began, "I need to…" he attempted to pull his arm away once again, hoping to be able to get this man off of him so that maybe, just maybe, Finland would be able to find out what exactly was wrong with him.

Instead of letting go of the man, however, Denmark simply continued to dig stiff fingers into Finland's arm, pulling on it as he began to head toward the couch.

Finland gasped as he was pulled. "Tanska, what are you doing?" he asked, a bit panicked. _What is he going to do? Please, don't let it be anything bad…_ his mind pleaded, but his mouth too scared to follow suit. Too stunned to fight back much anymore, he yelped as Denmark pushed him forcefully back, down onto the very same couch Finland sat on earlier.

Denmark only covered his mouth with one hand and struck him hard across his pale face. Finland struggled to hold in another sound of protest, tears now starting to form. What did he do to deserve this? He was sure that he hadn't said or some anything to upset or offend Denmark, so why…? As the Dane removed his rough hand from the man's mouth and replaced it with his own lips, Finland was brought right back to his senses, trying his hardest to fight against the bruising force on his fragile lips.

But the larger did not let up. He only pressed himself even harder onto the other, causing him to give a muffled cry out, still just barely audible to anyone besides the man who was inflicting this pain upon the poor Finn. Yet he still would not stop his assault. He continued to push harder onward, determined to teach the man a lesson that he would never forget, no matter how much he ever wanted to.

Denmark tore his own lips from the other's after biting roughly at the soft skin, being sure to make it bruise and to leave rough marks on the once-beautiful flesh. Big, fat tears welled up in Finland's now-saddened eyes.

"Stop, Tanska. P-Please." He begged, grasping one of Denmark's hands with his own and gripping it, trying to make him understand that Finland didn't want this; that he had done nothing to deserve this; that he didn't mean whatever it was that had set the large Dane off. At first, Finland had thought that he had known for sure that Denmark would never do anything to hurt him. He thought that they were friends. But now, as he stared into the Dane's angry, dark glare, and felt the pain on his now-sensitive skin, he knew that Denmark did intend to hurt him more, and that he would certainly not hesitate to do so. Even as he thought about this, Finland's eyes darted fearfully around the room, looking for any possible route for escape.

The Finn fought hard against Denmark's hands when they began to pull his thick, woolen sweater off. Unable to hold it in for much longer, the frightened man let out a scream, interrupted almost as soon as it dared to leave his lips by a hard fist right to his face, hitting his eye. Hard. Finland could only let out a soft sob as his sweater was pulled up, over his head and off of his body.

A few more tears rolled down Finland's porcelain face, staining the skin before plopping uselessly onto the couch, leaving small, wet puddles on the cloth, and then sinking into it hopelessly. _Please stop. Please stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop,_ Finland's mind screamed when he felt a rough tongue on one of his sensitive nipples. Several moments later, he bit his tongue in order to keep himself from screaming once more when he could feel hard, inconsiderate teeth bite down on it. Instead, the Finn dug his fingers as hard as he could into the couch, tearing small holes into it with his fingernails. And even though he fought his hardest against the cries which threatened to slip past his throat so much so that blood began to trickle from his tongue and down his chin, Finland could not keep a few small, pained sobs from fighting their way out.

Finally, however, the Dane decided that he had had enough of torturing the sensitive area and moved onto a different one. Denmark grabbed the Finn's pants and boxers with his rough hands, pulling them off just as he had with the man's sweater. Acting on instinct and fear now, Finland let out a helpless cry as he reached for those hands, desperate to stop them.

He was met again by a loud smack to the face, right over the skin affected from before, causing him to wince loudly from the pain. He was slowly losing the energy to resist Denmark, even as he felt the cool air from the room on his legs, now bare, as the skin was now unprotected by the cloth which had covered it only moments before. Finland trembled, still somehow able to give one, last, futile effort of resistance by holding his legs together as much as he possibly could, tears now rolling freely down his face.

But Denmark pushed on, shoving his fingers in between the appendages and prying them apart with some effort, until the Finn began to sob loudly once more in pain, losing all of his remaining energy when the Dane finally managed to pull those soft legs apart from one another, exposing the area which was kept concealed in between them.

The Dane looked back up at Finland with an angry glare, and was delighted when he could see the small man looking back at him, his face stained with tears and a small stream of bright crimson blood sliding down his chin and even further soiling the once-clean cloth of the couch. Finland looked as though he wanted to scream; as though, if he did, something, anything would be able to save him from this. But the way his lip was trembling was a clear sign to Denmark that he was much too afraid to do anything of the sort.

At long last, the Dane finally spoke. "That's right, you stupid whore. Don't you even think about fucking screaming or I'll make sure you can never scream again." He said menacingly, his voice threatening enough to get the point across, and low enough to make sure that no one would be able to hear him except for Finland, showing him, once again, just how hopeless and powerless he truly was.

And, with that, Denmark positioned himself over the other, gave him one last, good smack across the face, and, after feeling himself grow even harder from the stifled yelp, thrust himself swiftly inside.

He let out a low groan of pleasure when he entered the other, a little surprised that he was still so tight, even from what Sweden was doing with him.

But Finland was completely paralyzed from the moment the large member slid its way inside of him. He wanted to let out another pained sob, but one could not even make its way past his throat, no matter how hard he tried. For several long moments, it seemed as though he had been overtaken by pain. Su-san had always been so kind; so gentle. He almost couldn't believe that the same acts he performed with his own husband were so painful when someone else did them.

As Finland lay stiff, Denmark chuckled cruelly, running his one hand which was not busy holding the man's thin hip over his stomach, delighting in the fact that there was a moderately sized layer of fat. One that jiggled slightly whenever the Dane slid himself in and out, his thrusts heavy, hard, and sloppy, just to cause more pain for the Finn and more enjoyment for himself.

"Oh, Tino…" he grunted out, finding it somewhat difficult to breathe among all of the panting and groaning and moaning this was making him do, "You're so damn tight," he continued, grasping Finland's hair with a firm hand and tugging. And just as he did so, the Finn decided that he could take no more of this.

He cried out once again, this one loud and clear, ringing harshly in the Dane's ears and causing him to grow even angrier than before. Desperate to stop him from screaming, and with his wrath now seeping even farther over the edge than it already was, Denmark wrapped firm hands around the Finnish man's neck and squeezed.

Finland reached up for the hands that began to cut off his air supply completely, and even threatened to kill him with his own, clawing at them in a futile attempt to get them off of him and to allow him to breathe once more. But he soon found that this was nearly impossible. The Dane was still just much too strong for him.

"T-Tan… Ska…" he choked out, "I c-… Can't br-… Breathe…" Even as Finland spoke, he could feel himself becoming more and more lightheaded, darkness slowly creeping oh-so-gently over his vision, numbing the pain and promising release, promising relief and safety from that awful pain.

His eyelids fell weakly over his eyes and, at this point, the Finn didn't mind. He wanted to escape from this pain, from this embarrassment, from this awful, cruel humiliation. He wanted to be set free from this terrible, disgusting, horrible man. How did he ever think that he was a good person anyway…? Finland had been betrayed; betrayed by one of his oldest friends.

The last thing that the Finn could see as his eyes rolled slowly off to the side was Sealand standing at the top of the stairs, his expression a mixture of shock, horror, and sadness. As Finland's vision faded completely to black, he could see the tiny nation reaching a hand out for him, tears welling in his eyes as he slowly mouthed out the word "Mama…"

And still, Denmark did not stop his thrusts. He did remove his hands from Finland's supple neck, but only after his eyes had closed and he had slipped away from consciousness.

He instead moved them onto the Finn's hips, thrusting into his a few more times, as roughly as he could, not caring about the blood that dripped onto the couch from that orifice, groaning particularly loudly and releasing inside of him, panting a bit from exhaustion afterward.

Denmark never noticed Sealand at the top of the stairs, begging for his mother.

He also didn't notice as tears continued to roll down Finland's face before he whispered, almost soundlessly, "Su-san..."


End file.
